Chapter 25
"Hey," Rafail softly said as he closed the door behind him. "How are you?"
"I'm okay," Thalia yawned, snuggling further down the covers and sighing with content.
Rafail smiled, approaching her. "Are you sure?" He mumbled before bending down to peck her cheek.
"Hmm," Thalia hummed in confirmation, closing her eyes to savor the feeling of his lips against her skin.
Rafail didn't reply as he glanced once more at her form before walking to their adjoined bathroom. With both his hands grabbing the edge of the sink, he raised his head to look at the mirror. Staring at his own reflection, he silently waited. What for? He didn't know.
Maybe he just needed a sign; someone to confirm he would come victorious out of this war that still seemed like it hadn't started. Or maybe he just needed to reconfirm that this was not all a dream. If only he could slow down the time for one second and think. He just needed that – to think. He would find a way to come to terms with all that was happening – leading his wolves, having an ancient witch looking for an opportunity to rip his heart out, his mate's condition and her silence about the solution offered, becoming an uncle, Thalia's weakness that she tried to hide.
He would find a solution for all of his problems if he could only press pause and replay all the scenes in his mind.
Rafail sighed, taking his eyes off of the mirror and turning the faucet on. There was no point in wishing for the impossible. Time was the only thing that didn't wait, it simply moved forward. And no matter how much he wished it was different, he knew very well he had to make do with what he had. He didn't have time but he had friends that he trusted. At least, he had gained that out of all the fuckeries he had to go through.
Spitting the water out of his mouth, he placed his toothbrush in its place before hopping on the shower. He let the warm water run against his shoulders, offering a strange kind of comfort. It was weird – how one always felt brand new after a shower. How washing the dirt away was almost like taking a breath of fresh air, like starting a new chapter.
He wiped his wet skin with a towel and threw some clothes on, getting ready to get out of the bathroom and steal a bit from his mate's warmth. As Rafail walked out, he turned his head towards the mirror. For just a second, he saw his reflection stare back. This time, it seemed determined. There was no time but he would find a way.
He always did.
"What took you so long?" He heard Thalia complain as he spooned closer to her, wrapping an arm around her waist.
"Admiring my muscles," He teased, poking her side.
Thalia laughed. "The non-existent ones?"
"Thalia, careful baby! We don't want your nose to grow," He chuckled, loving the serenity her proximity offered.
She turned around in his arms, facing him with a smirk on her face. Dragging one hand up his bicep, she pinched it lightly. "Yeah," She said with fake sadness. "Guess you do have something to admire."
"Way to stroke my ego," Rafail rolled his eyes before kissing her forehead as laughter threatened to spill out of his lips.
"You don't need me to stroke your ego," Thalia scoffed, snuggling closer to his chest. "But..." She wiggled her eyebrows mischievously.
Rafail laughed loudly. "As I keep saying, I have no objections to that."
"Good," She mumbled, suddenly sounding tired.
"What's wrong?" Rafail frowned, pulling away so he could scan her face.
"Nothing," Thalia replied after some seconds, opening her eyes only to find worry written on that stormy grey. "I'm okay! Stop worrying about me. I told you I forgot to hydrate before and I'm still tired I guess."
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Crowned King (Throne of Thorns #2)
Fantasy'Heavy is the head who wears the crown.' Rafail knew the words to be true as he weighed the gold piece in his hands. He had finally managed to avenge his father and take back a kingdom that was rightfully his. But at what cost? As a new threat cam...
